


Run

by sleeponrooftops



Series: Snow Patrol Project [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was so polite.  Sometimes it killed me.  I smiled at this, going to sit next to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

_To think I might not see those eyes,_

_Makes it so hard not to cry._

_And as we say our long goodbye,_

_I nearly do._

“You’re insane, you know.”

 

Lily laughed, throwing her head back.

 

“Oh yea, why’s that?” she giggled, nudging me in the side.

 

“Well, that’s why,” he retorted, nudging her right back, which, of course, ending in a massive tickle fight.

 

It was usually like this.  We’d hang out for a little while, joking and chatting, before one of us decided to be cute and snuggle or, on the opposite spectrum, be ridiculous and tickle.  Usually, in the end, we were kissing and stumbling toward a bed, whichever one the Room of Requirement decided to give us that particular time.

 

The first time Lily and I slept together, it was just four hours after I’d finished celebrating my fifteenth birthday.  I never thought it would happen, never thought in a million years that _Lily Evans_ would be my first.

 

I was stumbling back _kind of_ drunk but beyond tipsy at around three in the morning, though it wasn’t too much of a problem.  I was only having trouble walking because, well, because it was dark in the common room and I didn’t want to hit anything.  I had never been a belligerent drunk, not like I had really gotten to the point of actually _being_ drunk more than a few occasions.  The guys had been upstairs for the past two hours, passed out, but I’d decided to go out and have a talk with my whiskey, cigarette, and nippy night air.  I loved November air, even as a kid.  It always made me feel so calm and relaxed.  I loved to just sit, in only a t-shirt and jeans, and just let the air bite into me and sink its teeth into every sensitive spots.  It made me feel alive, and it drove me crazy, all at once.

 

Kind of like Lily always had.

 

Okay, I admit.  I typically feel guilty for crushing on Lily because James is going to, like, marry the poor girl, but, honestly, she’s beautiful, and she deserves to be adored.  And so I adored her, since third year when she first got really close to me and threatened to hex me.  Ever since then, I’d thought she was special, a little star in my dark sky.

 

And so, when I finally found the couch, I let out a sigh of relief and felt my way along the back of it until another hand tickled mine.  I froze, straightened, and looked down.  A dying fire spat an ember almost too far, and it reflected off of Lily’s red hair.

 

We both should have realized, right away, that everything after that moment was a bad idea.  I was _kind of_ drunk but beyond tipsy and she was crying, silent little tears dropping onto her cheeks.

 

“Sirius,” she mumbled, slowly sitting, “Can I talk to you, please?”

 

I gulped.  She made me so nervous.

 

“What about, Lils?” I asked delicately, carefully make my way back along the couch.

 

“I just need someone to talk to, please.”

 

She was so polite.  Sometimes it killed me.  I smiled at this, going to sit next to her.

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

She shook her head, and all it took was one hiccupped sob before I pulled her against me, arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace.  I held her there, petting her hair as she cried into my chest, relating between gasping breaths that her younger brother had died.  I never knew she had one, but she said that he’d always been so sick, she never really talked about him because she didn’t want to make anyone sad.  He was four.

 

I held her closely, soothing her and calming her until she just lay there, exhausted and sleepy.  I was somewhat sober at that point, after having to force my brain to focus long enough to put all of my attention on Lily and making her feel better.  And, for that, I cannot blame my empty flask of whisky on kissing her back.

 

Because, yes, Lily kissed me first.  She sat up slowly, sighed, and turned to face me.  And she just leaned forward, and, at first, I was shocked and didn’t react.  Lily Evans was kissing me.  My best friend’s object of affection was _willingly kissing me_.

 

And I loved every second of it.

 

It started out slow, and I really didn’t think it would go much beyond a little kissing and maybe some cuddling.  Though, I also held back my surprise and inhibitions when she moved closer, hand dipping to my waist.  It was only when she let me up her shirt that I thought twice.

 

“Lily,” I muttered, backing away, “What is this?”

 

“I want to be loved, Sirius.”

 

It caught me so off guard, seeing her so distraught, just sitting there with this little pout and these slowly fading eyes.

 

“I love you, Lily,” I promised, leaning forward to kiss her, “But is this what you want?”

 

“Right now, yes.  Make love to me, Sirius.”

 

Lily Evans, asking me for the greatest sacrifice.  I gave it willingly and happily, and I’ll never regret it.  I loved Lily in that moment, and I continued to love her long after that.

 

“Are you spacing out on me again?” she whined, punching me in the side, and I’m suddenly brought back to the present.

 

“Sometimes I just like to remember our beautiful moments,” I said with a smile, and she just beamed before snuggling against me.

 

“I love you, Sirius.”

 

_Lily is dead.  She’s gone, Sirius._

Those days feel like a dream to me, a memory of a time when I was actually happy.  But here, stuck in this cell, nothing survives but the whisper of her.  A small gleam in my heart is what keeps it beating, a small little red gleam, pulsing only for her, only for my delicate little flower, my beautiful Lily.  Nothing remains but her, nothing lives on after this but her.  I am nothing without my girl.

**Author's Note:**

> Well! That was a sharp turn! I did plan it, though, promise.


End file.
